Hooked On A Feeling
by cupid007
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on the relationship between our favourite assassin and dorky Terran. Chapter 3 - You Need To Kiss My Boo-Boos, Doctor: "This is what he got for trying to be chivalrous. Unbearable pain and an ungrateful Gamora. Instead of thanking him, she was angry at him for getting wounded."
1. Terran Mating Rituals

**A/N:** Hi there! Finally got around to writing a story for these two adorable dorks. Not going to take up too much of your time with nonsense, but just a little warning: I am relatively green when it comes to the Guardians universe, not to mention the entire Marvel universe. So I must apologize in advance for inconsistencies or if I take a little liberty in my storytelling. I've only watched the movie (which was awesome by the way, loved Chris and Zoe!) and draw whatever knowledge I can from there.

The way I've written the chapters for the story, they are happening chronological in the order I write/publish them. That being said, this story will be written in the form of one-shots that can be (strictly speaking) read as individual happenings with no relation to each other if you wish, or as a chronological story, depending on what you want to read this as.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

**Chapter 1 - Terran Mating Rituals**

Throughout her turbulent and eventful life, Gamora had met quite a few weird (to say the least) creatures and aliens, courtesy of being the adopted daughter of the mad titan Thanos and then being put under the charge of the homicidal maniac Ronan the Accuser. But no matter what she had seen or who she had met during her life, nothing could prepare her for the alien called Peter Quill.

The Terran had always been strange to her, doing things she never expected him to. Sometimes he surprised her, and often his unconventional actions seemed stupid. Lately, he had been acting even stranger than normal, if that was even possible. He was asking her the most meaningless and dumbest questions, and then answering them himself. She remembered being alone by the _Milano's_ controls one night when he had walked up to her.

_"The stars are beautiful, aren't they?" he had said to her, trying to suavely lean on the control board but instead pushing on a lever and turning on the wipers._

_"Yes, quite." She stopped the small smile forming on her lips at his goofiness, instead paying him no attention as she stared straight ahead. He cleared his throat, acting as if his slip-up was nothing big. It was a while before he spoke again, and Gamora sensed his uncertainty. It kind of worried her, Peter was not usually one to hesitate over speaking his mind._

_"Hey, Gamora?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Do you have a map?"_

_This time she turned around to look at him, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what in the world he meant._

_"… why would you wa-?"_

_"Because I keep getting lost in your eyes," he blurted out before she even finished her question, and she regarded him with a strange look. He licked his lips, his blue eyes wide open and unblinking as he stared at her. It was quite unnerving for Gamora, and she shook her head._

_"The veins, irises and corneas in my eyes have unfortunately not been charted out and applied to a coordinate system, Quill. Sorry."_

_"Oh, okay," he said quietly._

If Gamora didn't know any better, she could have sworn the look on his face was something that resembled disappointment, but she quickly dismissed it as him just doing that pouty face because she didn't understand his Terran concept of 'jokes'. It wasn't until later, when she was trying to understand what the hell Peter could possibly want with a map of her eyes that she actually considered more romantic intentions.

Now, Gamora was no expert on Terran mating rituals, but she was pretty sure this was Peter's (admittedly lame) attempt at getting her into his bunk with him, and it hadn't worked. But the thing about Peter was that he never gave up. A few days later, they were stopping to refuel the _Milano_, as well as themselves, at a small, sleepy planet that was almost invisible on a map. There was a small, shabby café at the side of the fuel station they had parked at, not exactly a five-star restaurant, but at least it was better than nothing, and they decided to go eat there.

_Rocket was complaining over the lack of diversity, Drax was happily recalling items on the menu he had eaten with his family and Groot was in a very interesting conversation with a young fellow who seemed very awed by the tree (although the guy didn't exactly get any understandable answers from Groot)._

_Gamora bit her lip, having a hard time deciding if she should go for something light since she didn't feel very hungry, or if she should actually have a proper meal since her body would probably make her regret it later if she didn't. After all, she wasn't a robot._

_"Hey, Gamora," Peter said to her in that voice that promised something stupid was about to come from his mouth. "What do you think I should go for on this menu? The Me-N-U? Or maybe the U-N-I? Get it? Me and you or you and I?" He pointed back and forth between them to emphasize his point, grinning like an excited Terran dog._

_"I don't think they serve Terran dishes here," she replied, ignoring the slight huff of annoyance that he let out. It didn't last long though._

_"While we're on the subject of the alphabet, I thought happiness started with an H. Why does does mine start with U?"_

_"There's more than one alphabet in the Galaxy, Quill. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go for the 'If-U-Don't-Keep-Quiet-U-Will-B-Sorry' dish."_

That seemed to shut him up, but only for that night. His attempt at Terran mating rituals went from the stupid:

_"I hope you know CPR, Gamora. Because you take my breath away."_

_"The only way I could achieve 'taking your breath away' is by actually ripping your lungs out of your thorax, and I doubt CPR would save you then."_

_"… point taken."_

To the very straight forward and not so subtle:

_"That outfit looks good on you, but you know where it would look even better? On the floor."_

_"It would look even better wrapped around your neck, strangling you."_

_"I'm going to go away now."_

And the awkward:

_"Do you have a pencil? I want to erase your past and write our future."_

_Murderous rage burned in her eyes, and Peter looked like as if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him right there and then._

Only one time had he managed to actually silence her.

_"You know, if I had a unit for every time I thought of you, I'd have exactly one unit."_

_Gamora was unimpressed. "You're not even trying now."_

_"Do you know why?" he asked, ignoring her statement._

_She sighed. "Why?"_

_"Because lately, you have never left my mind."_

_She was just about to answer her own question when he said it, and froze mid-sentence with her mouth wide open. She stammered for a while, struggling to form a coherent sentence before gathering enough sense to close her mouth, clearing her throat awkwardly. She couldn't even meet his gaze, because she knew he was staring at her with those intense blue eyes. Gamora knew that this was not another of his silly attempts at getting into her pants, but that he was being completely and brutally honest with her._

_Not ready to accept defeat so soon, Gamora didn't know what she should do, so she started to briskly walk from the room, not wanting to say anything more to him for fear that her voice would break. She was just so overwhelmed at his simple statement. As she marched over to her bunk, she could feel his intense gaze burning her back._

Peter had won that battle, but that didn't mean he had won the war. If he was stubborn, she was if nothing else persistent.

_It will take a lot more than fancy wordplay to convince me, Peter Quill, or I am not Gamora, the deadliest woman in the galaxy_, she thought to herself, determined to not yield to his 'pelvic sorcery' without a good fight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And that's the first chapter! Next: The Guardians take a well-deserved break at a local nightclub, but Peter's thoughts are filled with deadly intent. Some creep is hovering over Gamora like a hawk, and Peter might commit murder if the creep makes one wrong move on her...


	2. Murder On The Dance Floor

**A/N:** Merry Christmas! First of all I want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed and/or favorited this story. It really means a lot, and whenever I get a notification in my inbox, I can't control the stupid grin on my face :) To the guest reviews: Thank you, I am so glad you liked it!

As I was writing, this chapter got longer and longer without me realizing it. When I was _nearing_ the end, it was over 3.3k words, which I felt was a bit too long. I took the (much difficult) decision to split it into two chapters (even this chapter is almost 2k words), so the next chapter will be a continuation of this. I hope you don't find this chapter too dull or boring. Without further ado, here's chapter 2 (hey, that rhymed).

(I've also realized that I love to use parentheses)

**Chapter 2 - Murder On The Dance Floor**

_Fuckin' creep._

Peter had a seemingly permanent scowl on his face, sulking in a quiet corner of the club away from everybody else. The only ones who sought refuge here were couples who wanted some 'privacy', though they were putting on quite the live show for a willing audience. The fact that Peter also found himself here (alone too) was very unusual; he was often to be found on the dance floor, moving very suggestively against some hot chick. This night, however, he only had eyes for one particular lady.

Downing his drink in one go, he grimaced as the strong liquid burned it's way down his throat. As the numbness gradually subsided, he turned to look over at Gamora.

She was standing by the bar and idly sipping her drink, but not alone. Some creep was hovering over her like a hawk, trying to make small talk with a mostly uninterested Gamora. Peter hadn't even met the guy, and he already didn't like the look of him. Throughout his 34 years Peter had been to enough night clubs and bars to immediately identify creeps and douchebags praying on innocent women (not himself, of course), and right now, he had a good mind to go over to that creep himself and teach him a lesson he soon wouldn't forget.

_Look at him_, Peter thought as his frown deepened unconsciously. _You think you're such a hero, don't you? Well I saved the friggin' galaxy, but not for bastards like you to walk around in it. You're spoiling the view and the atmosphere for everybody else, you dick._

He managed to hear snippets of whatever bullshit was coming out of the creep's mouth. He was talking about how many Nova Corps he had escaped and beaten up, probably thinking they were impressive achievements.

_How'd you like an appointment with my good friends Nova Prime and Denarian Day, you son of a bitch._

Now he was boasting on about how many damsels in distress he had saved, and Peter narrowed his eyes. _I wonder if your dick is as big as your mouth._

Peter's dark thoughts were interrupted by Rocket's booming laughter filling his ears, and he looked up to see the slightly inebriated raccoon stumbling his way over to him.

"Hey, Quill! Why the hell do you look like someone's taken a shit on your face? Lighten up, will 'ya?" he laughed loudly, smacking him hard on the back in a 'buddy gesture'. Peter was unimpressed.

"I could say the same about you, you jerk," he replied. "You've been shit-faced the minute we got into this damn club."

"Woah, who the hell rained on your parade?" Rocket punctuated his words with exaggerated hand gestures, probably thinking he was being very funny. Peter sighed and looked over to Gamora. Rocket followed his gaze, a devious smirk forming on his face when he saw the object of the man's desire. Although he was focusing his attention on Gamora, Peter noticed the look on the raccoon's face in the corner of his eye and immediately didn't like it.

"_Oh_," Rocket drew out the word way longer than he needed to. "Is Star-Lord getting a little jealous?"

"Shut up," Peter muttered as he twirled his empty glass on the table.

"Don't have the balls to ask her out yourself, lover-boy?"

Peter looked as if he could strangle the raccoon right then and there. "Rocket, I swear if you do not shut up, I am going to make an accessory out of you!"

Rocket could sometimes be overbearing and nosy, but he always knew when he was pushing it and when to back off. Now he only snickered, once again patting the sulking Peter on the back. "Don't worry, Quill. Gamora can hold her own."

"I know," he sighed.

"If that guy tries anything funny, Gamora won't take any of his shit. She can whoop his ass with two hands tied behind her back."

Of course, Peter was already aware of this, but that didn't stop him worrying in the slightest. He decided it was best to just agree to whatever the racoon was saying, so that he could at least be left to his sulking in peace and quiet.

"You're probably ri-" he started, but couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

Rocket noticed Peter suddenly stiffen. Just then Peter saw that the creep was leaning in even closer to Gamora, who took no particular notice of him. His beady eyes travelled down her face to her neck, then to her…

"I'm getting another drink," Peter announced as he stomped over to the bar, hands clenched tightly into fists. Rocket looked worried and was about to stop him, but decided it was best to leave it alone. An angry Terran on his tail was the last thing he needed. With a devious grin, he also decided that watching Peter teaching the creep a lesson would be good entertainment, as well as immensely satisfying.

At the bar, Peter signalled for another bottle of drink, his eyes never once leaving the creep as he kept watch over him. The way the guy's eyes were now shamelessly roving over her body, he might as well be touching her all over with his hands. If Peter decided to gouge out his eyes now, most of the people who witnessed this would probably assume the creep was innocent and Peter was the sinner. He just had to wait until the right moment came, and Peter knew it would, there was no mistaking the guy's intent.

_Just give me one reason, asshole…_

Meanwhile, Gamora was getting quite tired of the man's incessant talk. How he had not yet understood that she was simply not interested was beyond her, but now he was on the offensive, not even bothering to be subtle about ogling her. He was practically drooling at the mouth, and in her mind Gamora went through the number of bones in his body she could break.

"So, I was thinking," he leered at her, his deep, baritone voice vibrating in her ears, "it would be… _quite a shame_ if a pretty thing such as yourself remained alone all night long…"

As he spoke, his arms had snaked around her waist. Gamora looked down at his sweaty hand with a scowl. _Oh, he had crossed the line now…_ There was no way she was going to let that slip.

"… maybe I could help with that?" His breath reeked of alcohol. Gamora resisted the urge to gag, but didn't bother to hide the disgust evident on her face.

"I think I'll pass—"

In a matter of two seconds, she had taken a hold of his index, middle and ring finger, whirled around in the opposite direction and twisted his arm so that his hand was now in her steel grip in a very awkward position. He gave out a yelp of surprise, and his eyes widened in fear while hers dangerously narrowed, a devious smile on her face.

"—but thanks for the offer."

Gamora didn't waste another second as she bent his fingers backwards. The cracking of bones being bent unnaturally echoed throughout the room, and everyone went quite.

As the creep yelled out in agony, no one had noticed Peter sneaking up behind, bottle in hand and a murderous glint in his eye. Before Gamora could even react, he swung, the bottle shattering into a thousand tiny pieces as it hit the creep on the back of his head. The already teary-eyed and sniffling male turned around, no idea what was going on, only to be met by a fist in his face, courtesy of a very pissed of Terran. More bones shattered as the creep's nose was broken, and he was suddenly knocked out on the floor unconscious.

"Man, that felt good!" Peter exclaimed, vigorously shaking the hand that he had punched with. The force of the impact had made his hand swell up, but Peter could not be less bothered. If he had the choice between making the pain in his hand completely vanish and punching the creep again, he would choose the latter without a moment's hesitation.

Gamora's jaw had hit the floor, and before she could even register anything, a patron shouted "BAR FIGHT!" and punched the nearest bystander. This, of course, pissed of him and his friends, and all of them looked for someone they could beat up, leading to a domino effect of punching and accusations. Before anyone even knew it, a full blown bar fight had ensued, bottles, wallets and people soaring through the air. Rocket, of course being Rocket, joined in without hesitation. Drax was angered by the fact that no one was willing to take him on, and Peter was tackled by the creep's friends. Poor Groot was dragged in trying to defend his friends. The owner of the club ran around, desperately trying to calm down dozens of intoxicated, bloodthirsty patrons, who were destroying his precious decorations and pricey valuables worth _lots_ of units.

Gamora had no choice but to join in, managing to barely break up the fight after a good while of running around and incapacitating the bloodthirsty patrons with broken bottles and the drunk ladies using their sharp heels for stabbing. Soon enough, there was hills of blue, yellow and pink aliens groaning in pain on the floor. The owner of the club was red-faced, steam practically coming out of his ears as before him stood the five known as the Guardians of the Galaxy. They awkwardly introduced themselves, and the owner looked like he was about to suffer from an aneurysm.

Needless to say, the Guardians were banned from that establishment. For the rest of their lives. On their way back to the Milano, Gamora was glaring daggers at her teammates, and Peter couldn't help but feel that he was the one who was bearing the brunt of her fury. If looks could kill, Peter would have been dead ten times over.

_So much for being chivalrous_, he thought with a sigh. He was not looking forward to the rest of the night, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel a bit proud at how strong and heroic he had been standing up for Gamora like that. Now that bastard would never have the pleasure of harassing women verbally with his fake tales of heroic deeds, and Peter considered that a big accomplishment. He allowed himself a small, proud smirk, deciding for himself that once Gamora's anger had cooled down, she would be thanking him for his great deed for the galaxy. He was sure of it...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I must admit, writing a jealous Peter is too fun. Chris Pratt has some amazingly funny expressions, and I had no problem picturing Quill's reactions to someone flirting with Gamora in my mind (kinda squinting his eyes, lips pouting, not looking pleased at all, etc). The next chapter won't take too long to post since I've already written most of it (a week at most), but in the meantime, I can reveal that it involves a pissed of doctor, a concerned nurse and a patient fearing for his life.


	3. You Need To Kiss My Boo-Boos, Doctor

**A/N: **Wish everyone a happy new year, and a big thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited and/or followed since chapter 2! Here's chapter 3, continued from the previous chapter.

**Chapter 3 - ****You Need To Kiss My Boo-Boos, Doctor**

"What a terrible fight," Drax said as the Guardians took the walk of shame back to the _Milano_. "No one even dared to challenge me. If the owner had not so rudely interrupted, I might have gotten a little sparring exercise."

"Jackass," Peter grumbled irritably to himself, trying to hide his awkward limp because of a wound he had obtained in the fight. "If anything that owner should be thanking us for taking care of that asshole for him."

"If not for you, pretty boy, we'd still be in there having the time of our lives, so shut the hell up!" Rocket growled at him, still picking out pieces of fabric from between his teeth from when he had decided to bite someone on the behind.

"That's pretty high and mighty coming from you, seeing as you didn't think twice about _jumping into the fight yourself_!" Peter shot back, looking very offended. "Whatever I did, I did for the greater good!"

"Keep quiet, the both of you, or I'll make sure of it myself!" Gamora yelled, immediately making the man and the raccoon shut up. Of all the Guardians, no one was more furious than her, and the last thing anyone wanted was to be on the receiving end of her rage.

"I am Groot."

"Thank you, Groot. With that, I rest my case," the raccoon announced loudly, always wanting to have the last word. He shot a grin at Peter as if he had won the argument, even though no one except Rocket had any idea what Groot had meant.

Back on the _Milano_, a sour Drax and beat up Rocket immediately retreated to their respective bunks, leaving a sullen Peter, an angry Gamora and a concerned Groot in the main room. Gamora crossed her arms, giving Peter a pointed look that made him wish he was anywhere else than where he was right now. Groot's eyes were darting between the two of them, and he was unsure about whether or not to interfere before something bad happened. After what seemed like ages, Gamora finally broke the awkward silence that had settled between the three of them.

"All right, Quill," she grit out between her teeth, "lay down."

Peter audibly gulped. "What-?" he started, but was quickly cut off by Gamora.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the blood seeping through your shirt, you fool? Now lay down before you bleed out so I can take a closer look."

"I am Groot?" the tree gasped, immediately rushing to Peter's side.

_Oh, god_. Peter's body went rigid, and he muttered profanities under his breath. She was not, under _any_ circumstances, supposed to notice that, and Peter silently cursed his fragile Terran body. He brushed away Groot's efforts to inspect him all over, the tree desperately trying to find out where his friend was wounded. "Gamora, _I'm fine_-"

The look on Gamora's face shut him up fast enough, and he did as she demanded without another word. To say that he was anxious would be an understatement; having an annoyed Gamora tending to his wound with Groot hovering over him like a concerned parent wasn't exactly his idea of a dream scenario. If he could have it his way, he and Gamora would be alone, preferably in his bunk, and Gamora would be worried to death for him, fussing over nothing and blabbering on about how much of an idiot he was while running back and forth finding the medical equipment. He would then grab her hand to calm her down, making her stop mid-sentence and drop everything she was holding. Then he would slowly draw her closer to him, until their lips were only a mere inch away from each other, just like on Knowhere. He would feel her hot breath on his mouth, and whisper "you're cute when you act angry", pressing his lips to hers before she could even think to reply.

All this was, of course, only wishful thinking on Peter's part. The reality was that he was laid out, _shirtless_ none the less, on the ice-cold metal floor of the Milano, blood trickling out of a gaping slash wound on the right side of his stomach. Some bastard had picked up the smashed bottle during the brawl (the one Peter had used on the dickhead who was bothering Gamora, how ironic was that?) and slashed at Peter, nicking him on the side. Now Groot was kneeling beside him with some rags, pressing them against the wound on instruction from Gamora, who had gone to fetch some antiseptic and other supplies. Peter inhaled sharply as the tree tried to be as gentle as possible, but even the slightest pressure sent pain shooting through his entire body in all directions.

This is what he got for trying to be chivalrous. Unbearable pain and an ungrateful Gamora. Instead of thanking him, _she_ was angry at _him_ for getting wounded. The same thing had happened just outside of Knowhere; he had saved her from dying by essentially sacrificing himself, and did he get any form of appreciation from her? No, not in the slightest. She was angry at him for choosing her over the Infinity Stone, which apparently was supposed to matter more than her being alive. What else was he supposed to do, just leave her there to die?

_"I don't learn, one of my issues"_. Peter recalled an earlier conversation with the green-skinned assassin as he chuckled humorlessly, but the simple action only served to painfully remind him that he had a gaping gash on his body.

"I am Groot."

The flora colossus was regarding him with a stern expression, and Peter nodded obediently, thinking it wisest to keep as still as possible. Finally Gamora returned with a bottle of some strong alcohol, muttering something about needing to restock medical supplies on the Milano. She motioned for Groot to remove the rags, and prepared herself to see what the damage was.

It was even worse than she had initially expected. Good thing she had brought the whole medical kit, she thought grimly as she prepared the needle and thread. She ignored the widening blue eyes staring incredulously at her, the owner of them silently begging her to not do what he thought she was about to do. At least he wasn't stupid enough to voice his objection out loud, because Gamora was not in a good mood. As she unscrewed the bottle, she saw Peter slowly resigning to his fate, licking his lips anxiously.

"This will hurt a lot," she told him as she eyed him intently, looking for any signs of hesitation. He only nodded mutely, and she took it as a sign to go on.

Peter had to grit his teeth together to keep from crying in pain when she poured some of the liquid into the gash. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and he desperately fought back the tears pricking at his eyes. Thankfully, Gamora didn't take longer than necessary, and Peter couldn't help but smile shakily. If she really wanted to, she could keep on with the disinfection process, saying it was to make sure all the bacteria were killed as an excuse for making him suffer. He would be in no position to object, and would have to silently suffer at her hands. The fact that she had decided to not do so, spoke volumes when it came to Gamora, and Peter had learned to appreciate this in the months he had spent with her on the _Milano_.

As soon as the wound had been washed out with the antiseptic, she immediately took another cloth doused in the alcohol and cleaned the bloody area around. The cloth was cool to the touch and welcoming to the burning sensation. Now that the worst was over, he was almost feeling better already.

Almost.

She picked up the needle and thread, Groot watching on with worry etched on to his features. She gave him a reassuring nod; she knew what she was doing and everything would be fine. Gamora then turned to Peter, who was putting on a face of bravado, intently staring up at ceiling and clenching his jaw.

"It only hurts the first few times."

Her voice was flat, no trace of compassion in it as she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I know," he simply replied, turning his head away from her. "Let's just get it over with."

She was right. The first few pricks hurt like hell, but they gradually increased in numbness. Soon all he felt was a dull pain that lasted only a second where she stuck him as they fell into a steady rhythm. The gash was a few inches long and they had a lot to go, but at least Peter could now unclench his teeth enough to speak.

"Why'd you let him look at you like that?"

Gamora didn't have to ask who 'him' was to know who Peter meant.

"Simple. I didn't want to get us banned, but you seem to have done a fantastic job of that yourself," she replied curtly, bringing the needle into his skin again. Peter scoffed.

"Being banned is no big deal. If they let people like him in there, it isn't worth it. There's plenty of other bars around town."

"I am Groot," came the agreeing reply from Groot, who was now sitting in the corner and watching Gamora stitch up his wound with a strange fascination.

When she didn't answer, he continued. "The Gamora I know wouldn't think twice over gouging out his eyes and feeding them to him herself for even looking at her wrong."

Now she turned to face him, biting her lip. Peter idly thought about how cute she looked when she did that, and it made him forget about the pain for the moment. It was a while before she spoke again.

"You're right… I guess I just didn't want to ruin anyone's night. We've been working hard these last few weeks, and we deserved a break. Me breaking all of his ribs individually wouldn't have done us any good, and would have killed the mood. I was _trying_ to restrain myself, but I failed at that too," she sighed.

He looked at her strangely, prompting Gamora to roll her eyes.

"But yes, I was thinking of all the way I could make him suffer without him making too much noise… and I did break his fingers, didn't I?"

"That guy was hundred percent a dick," Peter muttered, wincing slightly as the needle went in again. To his surprise, Gamora was smiling. Like, mouth curved upwards, wrinkles around her eyes, smiling. It wasn't much, but when applied to Gamora, anything was better than nothing.

"What?" Peter asked her, trying to hide his satisfaction at making the deadliest woman in the galaxy smile. It was a feat that was seldom accomplished, but Peter could proudly say he had elicited a smile from Gamora on more than one occasion.

"I just think it's ironic how you thought he was a dick when you do exactly the same things to other unsuspecting females."

Oh, so she was smiling because she thought he was hypocritical. Well, it was better than nothing, he guessed. It still counted as a smile. Peter shook his head.

"Yeah, but that's different. The chicks I hit on…" he trailed off.

Gamora looked unamused, probably thinking he was fantasizing about some hot Xandarian. "What? Go on. How's what you're doing to them different from what he was doing to me?"

Peter dared to glance at her for a fraction of a second, awkwardly shuffling his fingers. Internally he was debating whether or not he should keep talking, because when he did, he sometimes (almost always) ended up making the situation even worse than before.

It was inevitable then, that he decided to answer.

"… they aren't you," he said so quietly that Gamora was unsure if she had heard him right, but the earnest look in his eyes erased any doubt she had. In the corner, Groot was watching the exchange with a wide, unmistakable grin on his face. Peter was thoroughly examining his clasped hands, unsure if it was a smart move on his part to say what he had said. Whatever it was, he just hoped she didn't take his words the wrong way, because that could spell disaster for him. It felt like years had passed before she spoke again.

"Flattery won't work with me, Peter Quill," she stated dryly, wrapping a bandage securely around his waist.

"Hey- ow! Careful!" Peter cried out. She was being a little heavy-handed with the tightness of the bandage, tugging on it a little more than needed (making Peter flinch as the bandage scraped against the fresh stitches), and he got the impression that her sudden harshness had something to do with his recent confession. She stood up, seeming very satisfied with her bandaging, but really it was more like satisfaction at taking out her aggression on his poor body.

"Now I suggest you rest. The alcohol you've consumed this night has clearly addled your mind." At this, she raised an eyebrow, and Peter felt like a child that was being told off. "Groot, please help him to his quarters, I doubt he'll be able to find it," she called over her shoulder as she walked to her own bunk.

Peter's mouth was hanging open at her sharp rebuttal. He visibly deflated, turning to the tree with a defeated look. Groot just shrugged.

"I am Groot," he tried to reassure Peter, walking over to help him stand up.

"Yeah, I know," Peter sighed, staring at her retreating form with a longing look in his eyes. "One day I'll make her see, buddy. One day…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Damn you, stubborn, pig-headed, sexy Gamora. Next chapter: After joining the Guardians, privacy is something of an alien concept for Gamora. It's only inevitable then, that the one time she gets some time for herself, Peter decides to invade on her private time in search of his precious cassette that he's managed to lose.


End file.
